


For Beautiful You Are My World

by kataurah



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fuck Canon, Post-Season/Series 05, Romance, Smut, in which they build their goddamn cabin, re-post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 06:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kataurah/pseuds/kataurah
Summary: Fresh air floods his fast pumping bloodstream and he's never felt more alive. He thinks maybe, at some point, he was told that there's a slight difference to the vital balance of elements in the air, but it's hard to remember scientific data, fascinating as it might be, when Abby Griffin is leaving a slow trail of hot kisses down your body.Or: How Marcus and Abby first ticked "sex on an alien world" off their bucket list.





	For Beautiful You Are My World

**Author's Note:**

> Altogether now: fuck "canon."
> 
> Re-post of a fic that I previously took down.

The air is different here. It feels and tastes cleaner than that of the Earth's. Marcus supposes it is; this new planet has not been scorched and reduced to ash twice over. The atmosphere has not been destroyed by nuclear fallout. His lungs feel like they've never really expanded fully until now and he remembers thinking the same thing at the first breath he took down on the ground. Stale, thin, regulated oxygen on the Ark could not compare.

Now that is several lifetimes ago.

Fresh air floods his fast pumping bloodstream and he's never felt more alive. He thinks maybe, at some point, he was told that there's a slight difference to the vital balance of elements in the air, but it's hard to remember scientific data, fascinating as it might be, when Abby Griffin is leaving a slow trail of hot kisses down your body.

It's somewhere between several months and a hundred and twenty five years since they've had a moment to be together like this. Not since one still night in Eden where they clung to each other in desperation; where it was raw and more bitter than sweet, and they kissed and fucked each other punishingly hard, unleashing their frustrations and heartache and seeking to connect in the way that works unfailingly, every time. The sex is always good, and they both used it as an escape more than once down in the bunker.

Since then she got clean and he got stabbed. Swings and roundabouts. Never a fucking break. Until now.

They shouldn't really be out here. They've been down here for two months and so far there's been no contact beyond indigenous wildlife, but it's still far too soon to let their guard down. Marcus, going stir crazy from bed rest and eager to explore, had defied doctor's orders and snuck past the camp perimeters to join the recon teams in exploration. It had been exhilarating and awe-inspiring, to take in just a small corner of a whole new planet, until he'd returned to find Abby frantic with worry and mad as hell.

"God, Marcus! You can't just -!" Her voice had cracked, her hands balled into fists at her sides, and he could tell part of her was furious enough to want to hit him. But he knew the anger came from a place of fear. "You can't just disappear into the woods! You're still healing and I can't risk - " A sob escaped and she let him draw her into his arms, guilt rising like bile in his throat, dropping apologies and kisses into her hair. "I told you before, I can't lose you."

"I know, I'm sorry. It was stupid of me."

"Extremely." She sniffed and pulled back enough to run her fingers over the bandage at his neck.

"Don't think you're getting away without a complete examination."

"Sounds promising," He teased, hands sliding to her hips and trying to charm his way back into her good graces. She'd merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"And if you're going to go sneaking off with Indra and Bellamy, I guess I'll just have to come along to keep an eye on you."

Despite the spike of alarm he felt, he wisely kept his mouth shut. He couldn't very well argue for her safety without admitting that he didn't feel able to properly protect her, and therefore couldn't protect himself well enough to have gone out there.

And so next time, after Abby and Indra had had a thorough (and irritating) discussion about the limits of Marcus' still recovering body right in front of him as though he weren't there, she did indeed join them on an excursion, and that was how they'd found what they'd quickly and mutually decided was _their_ clearing. Which included a rocky outcrop overlooking a waterfall, secluded, private and, most importantly, high ground from which they wouldn't be easily discovered or taken by surprise.

The quiet rush of water running into the stream beneath them fades into the background as Abby circles his nipple with her tongue and Marcus gasps, shivers of sensation breaking like waves over his skin. Lying back on the blankets they'd had the foresight to bring with them, he runs fingers that are trembling slightly through the silk of her hair, long strands brushing his bare torso like a feather-soft caress as she leans over him, straddling his legs. Even after all this time, she can still make him quiver with want; shake with sheer, breathless reverence.

The twin suns have almost set, but the sky still glows a strange ethereal purple, and Abby's eyes twinkle in the twilight when she glances up at him and smiles wickedly, hands gentle but firm enough at his ribs so as not to tickle - she knows full well how ticklish he is, delights in it - and continues on down.

His wounds no longer need dressings and are exposed to the night air, but they are still raw, sensitive, and Abby knows this better than anyone. She drops careful kisses around still healing flesh and Marcus knows they're both so aware in this moment of how lucky they are, how monumental it is for them to make love for the first time since they almost lost everything.

"I love you..." Abby's voice is thick, and when Marcus cranes his neck to look down at her, brings a hand to her cheek, he can feel the silent tears she has let fall.

His chest and throat tighten in response, emotions brimming with everything they've been through - everything they've suffered - to get here: lying together under unfamiliar stars, foreign constellations that have no names.

He wants to name one for her.

"I'm starting to think that there are no limits to how much I love you." The words spill forth and he doesn't regret them because they're true: every time he finds himself thinking he couldn't possibly love her more, he proves himself wrong.

Abby's response, after a choked off sob of his name, is to crawl back up his body to swoop down and capture his mouth in an urgent, greedy kiss. She's careful to keep any pressure off his stomach (which privately amuses him, given how she barely weighs anything at all, his tiny hurricane) but grinds her hips down against his as she slips her tongue into his mouth and her hands into his hair. The friction is an exquisite burn of not enough and Marcus can feel the heat of her arousal meeting his own through layers of clothing, where he's already hard and throbbing for her.

"I had plans for you," She murmurs against his mouth, "And you're derailing them."

She kisses him again, hot and fervent, and it's a minute before he can breathe, "Best laid plans..."

"Mmm, true," Abby's lips leave his and travel to his ear, "But I can guarantee you want me to continue where I left off."

He's torn between simply agreeing with her, letting her carry on with her sweet torture, or flipping them over (easily) so he can exact some of his own; to retrace well-known pathways over her body that he has missed desperately. She feels him tense before he can even try to move and sits back up astride him, one censoring hand placed firmly in the centre of his chest.

"Nope, stay. I only agreed to this under the condition that you don't strain yourself."

He quickly slips a hand down to the apex of her thighs and rubs his thumb hard over the seam of her jeans. The material is damp and they both moan in unison. He watches her eyelids flutter as she gives herself over to pleasure for a moment: _beautiful_.

"Are you saying you'd be fine stopping right now if I decided to ignore that?"

Panting a little, rocking her hips into his hand, she drops down again for a hard kiss and bites his lip. "Behave. Let me do this for you. I want to."

He really doesn't know why he's arguing - as if he'd ever say no to what she's offering - perhaps because it's familiar and verbally sparring with her has always given him a thrill. It's their rhythm; it's the fire inside her that stokes his own.

By the time her mouth has reached the soft skin of his lower belly again, his heart is pounding and he's already a little dizzy from anticipation. Abby undoes the straining button and fly of his pants teasingly slowly, and he can't help the groan of relief that sounds from the back of his throat when she draws his underwear down too and frees his aching erection to spring up against his stomach.

Abby breathes a soft "_oh_" of satisfaction and Marcus looks down to see her _licking her fucking lips_, her gaze unmistakably hungry. Arousal hits him like a gut-punch, intense and knocking the breath out of him.

"_Abby_..." It's comes out as a whimper, no point denying it, and he clumsily, _eagerly_, kicks his boots off as she rids him of his clothing.

Perhaps he should feel vulnerable and exposed, lying naked in the open air whilst she hovers over him, fully clothed, but Abby Griffin has long had possession of his body and his heart, and they're hers to do with as she pleases. He gives himself over to her willingly - always willingly - and fully.

Her small, deft hand closes around him and he sighs, hips tilting up instinctively into her touch. She strokes him leisurely, surely, thumb circling the sensitive spot beneath the head on every pass.

"I missed this," She murmurs, and Marcus opens eyes that had fallen shut to meet her focused gaze, watching him intently. "I missed touching you... making you feel good."

"I -" He cuts himself off on a groan as she dips down to swirl her tongue around the tip of him and sets nerve endings alight. "I missed you too." He gasps, reaching down to trail his fingers over the arch of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw, as she takes him into her mouth. "_Fuck_, Abby!"

It's hot and wet and perfect, and Marcus' whole body starts to dissolve into bone-melting pleasure, the world narrowing down to the slide of her lips up and down his cock, the sweet suction of her mouth, and her clever tongue unerringly finding his most sensitive spots and driving him higher and higher out of his mind. It's like there's an inferno building inside him, and Marcus is desperate to let it - let _her_ \- consume him, but there's something he wants even more -

"Abby... " He gasps, hips writhing helplessly in an effort not to thrust, hands tangled in her hair,

"Abby, _please_... I want - I need -"

"Mmm?" She hums an inquisitive noise that seems to vibrate from his throbbing cock all the way through his entire body. Fingers tracing soothing circles on his hipbone, she pulls back just enough to whisper, "Tell me what you need, baby," punctuated with a kiss to the weeping, swollen head straining before her lips.

Marcus hears himself whine, low and desperate, but he's too far gone to be embarrassed; there's no noise she hasn't heard, and delighted in drawing from him, before.

"You -" He pants, brokenly, "Inside... you... _please_..."

He aches to be buried so deeply inside her that it's impossible to tell where he ends and she begins, to be joined as closely as two people can be. He wants to feel her body welcoming him home, to watch her face as his cock stretches and fills her to completion. To bring her with him as he unravels and tumbles from dizzying heights of pleasure.

He can't express any of this because it feels as though all the blood in his body is currently pulsing in his cock, and his brain is an incoherent, Abby-induced mess.

Luckily, she understands him as well as ever.

With one last kitten-lick to the drops of pre-cum leaking from the sensitive slit, making him shudder and whimper, Abby stands and begins to quickly and efficiently shed her clothes. Marcus manages to push himself up a little onto his elbows to watch her; every muscle feels tightly strung, his whole body vibrating with need, and he finds himself biting his lip in anticipation, hard enough to draw blood. His cock lies flat against his stomach, rock hard, red and wet from her mouth.

Sometime soon, he looks forward to doing this again himself, to peeling her clothes away, piece by piece, and slowly unveiling her to his reverent gaze. But as it is, he's happy to behold her like this: standing bare, beautiful and breathtaking before him under the luminous, other-worldly starlight.

"Come here," He whispers, low and rough, and watches a shiver travel over her skin at the sound of it.

She falls into him and he surges up to catch her, wrapping her up fully in his arms and kissing her like she is the only thing keeping him alive and tethered to this world.

And she is. He mourns the Earth, of course he does, and he thinks he might always carry a certain bitterness for what humanity did to it; the way in which they left it behind like trash. But it turns out that as long as he is breathing the same air as Abby, he can dream of their future on whatever world they find themselves on. She _is_ his world. The love and want for her that courses through him now is constant and enduring, and as intrinsic to him as the heart currently thundering in his chest.

She's straddling him again, her knees bracketing his hips, pressing them together so that he slips between her folds, warm and wet and so, so ready for him. The slightest shift of their bodies and she's there, sinking down onto him, muscle memory allowing her body to take him in comfortably, and they both moan in profound relief; it's been too long.

They pause to savour the feeling once he's seated inside her completely, her inner walls clutching him tight and enveloping him in warmth. Marcus closes his eyes and skims his fingers up and down the curve of Abby's spine, her smooth, pale skin covered in goosebumps, either from his touch or the chill of the night air. He can feel the hardened peaks of her nipples brushing deliciously against his chest as they rest their foreheads together and take deep, shared breaths.

Then Abby kisses him softly and presses him down with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Lie back. Let me do the work."

She follows him down, kissing him until his back meets the soft, worn cushion of blankets, then sits back up, hand over his heart bracing herself, and begins to slowly undulate her hips in deliberate, controlled movements. He hisses and she smiles, knowing and playful, squeezing him with every perfect, torturous roll of her hips, and the burn is building again, a molten coil of tension low in his belly, spreading...

Marcus grips her ass and _thrusts_ and Abby's cry is a sharp, "_Oh!_" loud in the still of the night. Her head falls back, exposing her throat and his eyes rake over the long line of her whole body, arched in pleasure towards him, down to the place where they are joined. Her careful control is broken and as she starts to ride him in earnest, the sight of his glistening cock sliding inside her body over and over threatens to undo him. His eyes travel up again to meet her own, darkened and hooded, watching him watching them, lips that minutes ago had been wrapped around his cock, swollen from his kisses, curled wickedly. Her hair tumbles in messy waves of gold and silver around her shoulders, framing her breasts, bouncing with every thrust, and his hands are drawn to them like magnets.

He palms them, draws his thumbs over rosy, stiff nipples, and feels her whole body jerk, the fluttering of her internal muscles as currents of pleasure rush to her core; his mouth waters to taste them. Abby lets out a half moan, half humming noise that goes straight to his cock and arches further into his touch.

She is a vision moving above him, surrounding him, taking him deeper and deeper, and, as it always does when they are together like this, time seems to slow and Marcus feels himself suspended in this moment. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of them, losing themselves in each other, in this dance that their bodies know off by heart.

Their breathing grows harsh, punctuated by broken moans and whispered, panted encouragements. Marcus drops a hand back to her thigh and feels it quivering with exertion as she drives her hips hard into his. He can feel himself spiralling too, every muscle pulled taught like a bowstring and pleasure cresting, _surging_, beneath his skin. He's trying desperately to hold on for her when -

"Marcus..." She gasps, "I'm so close, baby, please..."

He knows what she wants and slips his other hand down her stomach, tensed in anticipation, until his fingers find damp curls, and rubs his thumb in hard circles over her slick, swollen clit.

"_Ohhh, yesyesyes -!_" Abby's hips stutter and she falls forward as she comes gasping, barely catching herself against his chest. Marcus clutches her shaking body, feels the waves rippling through her, her cunt convulsing around his cock, and follows her over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him like lightning, white hot and blinding, and he bursts deep inside her with a guttural groan.

When he opens his eyes again he's literally seeing stars, bright pinpricks of light against the blue black blanket of the night sky above, and Abby is sprawled over his chest catching her breath. He's still inside her, content to remain so even as he gradually softens, sated, and Abby makes no motion to move. He strokes a hand over her hair, the other resting in the dip of her lower back, and Abby turns her head to prop her chin on his chest.

"Hi," She smiles, satisfied and sleepy.

His heart clenches: it's been so long since she's looked so peaceful, so happy. And there he goes again, rediscovering how limitless the capacity of his love for her can be.

"Hi, love," He murmurs back, hopelessly drunk on her, melting into post-coital drowsiness.

She cranes her head up for a languid kiss, humming against his lips, before settling down again, cuddling close. For a moment they're quiet, listening to the rush of the water.

"It would be nice to build a home here." Abby says, blindly grabbing at the blankets piled beneath them, and he helps her drape one over them as their bodies cool down.

Marcus thinks of his conversation with Diyoza back in Eden, the tentative plans they've all started to discuss, the makeshift camp that has sprung up around their landing site.

"Is that not what we're trying to do?"

"I mean..." She pauses and glances up at him, almost as though she's anxious, "... for you and me. Right here. In this little clearing, by the stream. We could build a cabin..." Her face is soft and hopeful and so, so vulnerable. "If you wanted to?"

He can see it so clearly: a peaceful, thriving future, and a place for he and Abby to call their own.

A place for them to get away; a place where they can grow old together. Tears prickle behind his eyes and it feels as though there's a small explosion happening inside his chest. How could she ever doubt that he'd want that?

His smile is so wide he wonders if he looks a bit manic, but Abby's uncertainty has vanished in its wake and she matches it with one of her own, as bright as the sun.

"There's nothing I want more." He manages to say, his throat clogged with emotion, and then Abby's hands are on his face, drawing him into another kiss that tastes of joy and new beginnings and second chances. "Does that mean we just christened our new home?" He asks with a smirk, when she lets him breathe for a moment.

"I promise we'll do it again once it's built." Her eyes dance with amusement and promise. "And again, and agai -"

He cuts her off with a kiss, finally rolling her underneath him, and her laughter rings out in the quiet of their little haven.


End file.
